Some Things Which Are Not Understood

The boy electrician does not crash
but pulls his inspiration out
of solid ground and slowly leaks
his understanding to the rest
of us. Licking our patron saint
medals he tastes fear, which he names
in fear’s own, choppy language.
We will not be sailors as long
as we stare straight at the sun
without protection. We will all go
blind with love. The nightlight of
the boy electrician cannot be seen
down south, where it sometimes kills
big men and small animals. Settle
down, now.